


Trouble Lurking

by madridistagoblue



Series: Tumblr Fanfiction Prompts [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4015720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madridistagoblue/pseuds/madridistagoblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“P-please,” Furihata pleaded as Akashi approached. “I-I am supposed to t-take these d-drinks back to my t-teammates. If you’re going to kill me, then please let me deliver these first.” </p><p>The serious look on Akashi’s face disappeared, immediately replaced by apparent confusion.</p><p>“What a strange reaction from someone who is watching me from behind a bush.” </p><p>Based on the Season 3 Episode 19 End Card</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble Lurking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Life_on_Vega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Life_on_Vega/gifts).



> Written for the tumblr prompts meme in response to prompt #25 "trouble lurking." I was also requested to tie the prompt in to the AkaFuri end card.

“Will that be all for you today?” the cashier asked. 

“Uhh...” Furihata Kouki stammered, lifting his hand and using it to scan over the packs of sports drinks on the countertop. As he did so, he muttered the headcount under his breath. “Yes, that’s all,” he confirmed with a nod of the head when he had finished. 

Sure, Furihata had already counted up the number of drinks to make sure he had enough for all his teammates, but it never did any harm to double check. (Well, or triple check.) After all, coach had specifically instructed him to buy drinks for the whole team. Even if it was the only thing he would do to help his team in the semifinals, Furihata was determined to assist in any way he could and to do the job right. (After all, he still hadn’t seen the court in a tournament game, and he was unlikely to at this point, now that so much was on the line). 

“Thank you,” the cashier said with a polite bow, pushing two plastic bags filled with the drinks towards Furihata. The Seirin point guard grabbed his purchases and headed towards the door, a smile gracing his face as he felt the satisfaction of a job well done. He briefly scanned the bags, making sure all the contents he had just counted had made it in. 

Furihata stepped outside and immediately shivered upon coming into contact with the night air. He bundled his hands inside of the long sleeves of his light blue cardigan as best he could while still carrying the bags. His teeth chattered, and he mentally scolded himself for not having thought more carefully about how to dress. With a sigh, he picked up his walking speed, hoping that perhaps the heat of a good workout could calm his body. Yet, he slowed, suddenly, as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching in the distance, accompanied by a voice that sounded eerily familiar. Feeling a slight tingle in his stomach, he let his eyes wander in search of the noise. He couldn’t place the voice at all, but he could swear he had heard it before. 

“Yes, Kotarou. What flavor would you like?” Furihata heard the voice speak louder and more clearly now. Whoever the voice belonged to must be approaching, though Furihata still couldn't place the stranger’s location. Perhaps he should just start walking again. It would be strange and impolite to find himself suddenly staring at someone with no apparent motive. Yet for some reason, Furihata found himself frozen in place.

“Lychee. Yes. I will have it for you tomorrow,” the voice spoke again. The sound was so steady, almost expressionless, but not in the way that Kuroko’s voice often lacked emotion. This voice was elegant; hardened, but precise. Furihata couldn't think of anyone he knew who it belonged to, but for some reason he felt uneasy in its presence. Clearly, his subconscious remembered something about the owner of that tone that his conscious mind didn’t. 

The footsteps grew closer, and Furihata heard the sound of a cellphone clicking shut. He couldn’t just stand there on the middle of the path, caught waiting for the speaker to appear, like a friend or a lover. But curiosity was getting the best of Furihata, and he couldn't just leave either. He looked around furiously. Maybe there was somewhere he could stand out of the way. 

There were only seconds left to make his decision before the other man would appear, and Furihata had found no excuse worthy place to travel. The only things in site were the pathway surrounded by open flat land, the convenience store he had already left, and some scattered bushes that had been hurriedly planted by the landowners. 

Well, the bushes it was. And it was now or never. 

Furihata dashed back towards the convenience store and crouched behind one of the bushes, so that he was hidden between the bush and the storefront. Or, at least, he tried to be hidden. The bush wasn’t very tall, and even kneeling on the ground, Furihata could tell that flyaway strands of his brown hair were peeking out from behind the leaves. Why couldn't the bush be just a bit taller? 

The footsteps became extremely close. The man must be in view now, but Furihata was slumped over with his face nearly in the dirt trying to hide. He released his hands from around his plastic bags -- which were settled on the ground anyway -- and snapped two large branches off of the bush in front of him. Maybe if he was clever, he could use them to make the bush appear bigger and hide his face while still watching. He carefully positioned the branches on either side of him and snuck his head over the top of the small plant. 

The first thing his eyes caught sight of was a head of bright red hair. 

Seirin’s backup point guard may as well have died right then and there. 

Furihata had only come into contact with Akashi Seijuurou once before. And, quite frankly, one meeting (of sorts) with the Rakuzan captain was enough for him. He had accompanied Kuroko to a meeting of the Generation of Miracles and somehow found himself a witness of attempted murder by scissors. He tried to frame his head more carefully with the twigs. Who knew what would happen if Akashi were to spot him now!

The former Teikou captain was dressed smartly in a white sweater overtop a black button down shirt and a pair of black dress pants. Aside from his somewhat expensive taste, he looked no different, on this occasion, than any high schooler headed to the convenience store. It was strange, somehow. He had such an overwhelming presence when he had been standing on the stairs outside the arena, but, now, he could almost go unnoticed. (Though, Furihata observed, he still carried himself in a way that exuded confidence.) 

Furihata waited patiently, trying not to make any unnecessary movements or cause a single sound. He would even hold his breath if Akashi came close enough. He tried to quickly map out the escape plan in his head. As soon as Akashi walked into the convenience store, he would dash away at top speed. It was simple enough. He just needed to avoid getting caught before that. Akashi drew closer to the store, and Furihata silently prayed for him to step inside. Why had he decided that hiding in the bushes to wait for an unknown voice was a good idea anyway!? Hopefully his moment of stupidity wouldn’t cost his life! 

Akashi stopped, suddenly. Furihata held his breath. What was wrong? Why wasn't he going into the store? Isn't that what he had come here for? 

The red headed captain of Rakuzan pulled out his phone and scanned it for a minute, before placing it back in his pocket. Then he crossed his arms, still standing in place. It was as though he was waiting for someone to arrive...or for something to happen. But who or what? 

That’s when Furihata finally noticed the last thing he wanted to see. Akashi’s eyes were glancing sideways towards the bushes -- towards him.

“Excuse me,” called Akashi’s voice suddenly. 

Furihata was almost sure his heart stopped beating. 

“You look familiar,” Akashi continued, now approaching the bush. His distinctive heterochromatic eyes, one red and the other a pale amber, scrutinized the Seirin player meticulously. 

Furihata dropped the twigs at the side of his head and looked up at the Rakuzan point guard. He felt like a peasant of some sort, kneeling before the great Emperor.  

“P-please,” Furihata pleaded as Akashi approached. “I-I am supposed to t-take these d-drinks back to my t-teammates.” He inhaled deeply, trying to work up all his courage for his final act of defiance. 

“If you’re going to kill me,” Furihata said without hesitation this time, “then please let me deliver these first. My teammates need them.” 

The serious look on Akashi's face disappeared, immediately replaced by apparent confusion.

“What a strange reaction from someone who is watching me from behind a bush,” Akashi marveled at the Seirin point guard. “If either of us is to be concerned about trouble lurking, I would think it best be me, not you.” 

Furihata chuckled nervously.

Akashi walked up to Furihata's side and looked down on his fellow point guard, who was still kneeling in the dirt behind the bush.

"If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing behind this bush, anyway?"

"Uuhhh…" Furihata stammered. What was he supposed to answer to that? He couldn't think of a good excuse for the way he had been watching Rakuzan's captain from the bushes, and he wasn't a good liar anyway. "I heard someone coming, and, I guess I got a little scared."

"There's no reason to be frightened," Akashi said, bending down towards Furihata and extending his arm.

Furihata instinctively flinched away.

Akashi's mismatched eyes widened as he sensed the other's discomfort, and he lowered his hand. "I mean no harm."

Furihata examined Akashi closely. Though his heart still pounded in his chest and the butterflies still gnawed at his stomach, for some reason, the Rakuzan captain's words seemed genuine. Something about the player's aura was less intimidating than it had been before, and the look in his eyes was less frightening as well. Concluding that Akashi really wasn't here to kill him, Furihata slowly reached out his own hand (though he closed his eyes as he did so). He felt the former captain of the Generation of Miracles take his hand in his own, and gently pull him into a standing position. Furihata opened his eyes. It hadn’t been a trick and he wasn't dead yet.

"Thank you," Furihata said, watching curiously as Akashi lowered himself again. The captain grabbed the two bags of drinks and handed them to the brunette.

"You said these were for your teammates," Akashi said. "I would hate for you to lose them."

"U-uh thank you," Furihata repeated, taking the bags and quickly bowing to signal his gratitude. He wasn't sure what to make of Akashi's polite behavior. This was nothing like the Akashi he had met before the opening ceremony of the Winter Cup. Was Furihata sure this was really Akashi Seijuurou? But who else could it be? Furihata was almost positive no one else had the same combination of red hair and heterochromatic eyes with such similar facial features to the former Teikou captain. Not to mention the fact that his bangs were short and unevenly cut, as though he had trimmed them himself without referencing a mirror.

"Do you play for one of the basketball teams?" Akashi asked suddenly. "I get the feeling I've seen you before."

"Yes," Furihata responded, his fingers fidgeting nervously with the plastic bags. "I play point guard for Seirin."

Akashi smiled back. Furihata almost questioned the reality of the whole situation when he saw the genuinely pleased expression on the captain's face. It was strange how pleasant Akashi looked when he smiled in that way. Even his eyes seemed less intimidating, though they were somehow just as captivating as ever.

"I'm a point guard as well, for Rakuzan," Akashi said as though Furihata -- or any high school basketball player in all of Japan, for that matter -- did not already know who he was.

Furihata nodded. It was best he could do given the peculiarity of the situation. He suspected that he couldn't have said anything even if he had known what to say.

"I went to Junior High with one of you teammates," Akashi continued, fortunately not seeming to mind Furihata's silent response. "Kuroko Tetsuya," he supplied the name, though Furihata already knew.

Furihata merely nodded again. How was it possible that he was making small talk with Akashi Seijuurou? Though, the talk was indeed very small from his side.

"I'm sorry," Akashi's tone changed suddenly, "I didn't catch your name. I'm Akashi Seijuurou."

"Furihata Kouki," the Seirin point guard replied.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Furihata-san," Akashi said. "I'm afraid I must go, though. I need to buy drinks for my teammates as well. Perhaps, we will be reacquainted in the finals."

"Sure," Furihata nodded nervously. He watched as Akashi turned and made his way to the convenience store without another word.

Furihata couldn't help but observe the redheaded captain's every movement as he walked into the store. There was still something so regal about the way the player held his chest high, his confidence, and his manner of speech. But he came across as well-bred and, dare Furihata say it, charming. It was hard to believe this was the same person who had thrust a pair of scissors at Kagami and threatened to kill anyone who stood in his way. Was Furihata so meek that Akashi didn't even see him as an opponent? But that didn't seem to explain everything. The intimidating aura that surrounded Akashi the last time Furihata had seen him hadn't been present here -- or, at least, it was much weaker.

Furihata sighed and shook his head. He needed to get back home before his parents started to worry about why it took so long for him to run his errands.

But something about this entire occurrence nagged at Furihata all night as he tried to fall asleep. Which was the real Akashi? The one who had threatened his teammates or the one who wanted to make sure he didn't leave his bags of drinks behind? Perhaps Furihata would never know, and perhaps it was better if he didn't come across another opportunity to find out.

The next time Furihata saw Akashi Seijuurou, he and his teammates were warming up before their match with Kaijou. He watched with terror in his eyes as Akashi brought Kagami to his knees without using an ounce of force. The aura that Furihata had sensed in their first meeting had returned. This was Akashi Seijuurou, fearsome captain of Rakuzan and the Generation of Miracles.

Furihata diverted his eyes, unwilling to witness any more horrifying acts from the heterochromatic point guard.

But, for reasons he failed to rationalize, Furihata felt sad. It was not for Kagami and Kuroko. Though he worried for them, this feeling of emptiness was something else. It was though he had lost something -- something which had never been. A friendship, perhaps, with an Akashi Seijuurou who did not stand on this court. An Akashi Seijuurou whom Furihata would likely never meet again.

 

 


End file.
